


You look the same but I don't recognize you

by Themoonisnotarobot



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Reunions, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 17:08:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11317884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Themoonisnotarobot/pseuds/Themoonisnotarobot
Summary: What if they didn't immediately all run into each other's arms as the sun set? What if they were aware that they had all changed in the six years they had been separated?Basically had this in my mind and needed to write it! So, sorry if it's really rough.Title from Forever Ever by Bastille (ft Kate Tempest and Jay Brown)





	You look the same but I don't recognize you

Disclaimer: all characters and ideas belong to the creator of the 100 - Kass Morgan (novel) and TV Show (CW)

 

There they stood, frozen in a group from where they had just turned from a map. The ground on which they stood was green, lush compared to the rest of sooty plain stretching to the glowing horizon. The valley to her back, Clarke had been going out to check her traps when she saw the streak of red striking the sky like an igniting match. Her hope, building inside her before now, released and turned into aching relief. They were alive, alive, alive. They were all alive. And they were beautiful, the setting sun shining on their hair and their strength as a group obvious in the way their bodies curved into each other. Clarke reached out to the tree trunk beside her to steady herself, its rough texture beneath her fingertips reminding her of reality. The tension in the air stretched as no one yet made a move, not a touch of air seeming to be even exhaled.

She should be running straight to them, to hug them and tell them how much she missed them, and that she’s so glad they’re back. But she couldn’t. The six years made the 100 metres between them feel further than when they were even in orbit. At least then she could deny the fact that people could change in six years. She’d changed. She’d taken on some responsibilities and lost some. One of those stood behind her quietly, no doubt eager to find out who these people were – who their guardian had talked so long about. The people from the sky.  
But Clarke’s mind said threat. Said "strange". Said "different".

A few long moments of silence, stillness, as they gathered in of her what they could. A sharp exhale rustled through a pair of lips. A hand shot out to grip Raven’s shoulder, who gripped back. Clarke was aware she had changed too. While they had been forced to shoulder more and more responsibility, decisions on which rode life or death, Clarke had finally got to shed those very same responsibilities. She had learned to be selfish, for her and for Madi, and she felt…at peace with herself like she hadn’t before. The jolt of the collision of past and present echoed through her with old memories that weren’t always pleasant.  
Murphy was eventually the first to start forward. Not exactly smiling, but with a wry smirk tugging at his lips as if to say, “of course. I should have guessed.” And as they came towards her Clarke began to see glimpses of the old friends she knew – although Raven’s leg was new, shining and metal, the strong set to her shoulders and proud lift to her head was still there as she hesitantly smiled at Clarke. Emori was brighter, sunlight shining outwards where before she hid inside herself, yet that wicked glint hadn’t shifted from her eyes. Where he stood next to Harper Monty looked older – stronger, with filled out, broad shoulders. Yet he was wrapped in a grey cardigan, and his eyes held his old softness as he looked at Clarke with slack wonderment and hope. Echo, with heavy eyes, just looked tired and happy to have her feet back on solid ground where she could feel the air shifting around her and the sun’s warmth.  
  
“Clarke.”

“Murphy.”

“It’s John.”

She shook her head in disbelief, then he laughed and pulled her in for a hug.

“A hug? From John Murphy? Are you sure there was enough oxygen up there?” Clarke teased, even as she felt her eyes begin to sting.

“Honestly Clarke Griffin. I don’t see you in six years and we’ve already reverted to a last name basis?”

An arm shoved Murphy to the side as Raven’s glowing face forced its way into Clarke’s vision. After seeing Murphy start forward Raven had bolted, smile bright and wide on her face.

“Clarke. Griffin. If anyone could survive the apocalypse I knew it would be you.” Clarke had to blink back tears after Raven circled her arms tightly around her shoulders. “I’m so sorry we left,” Raven whispered.

“It’s what I wanted.”

“That didn’t make it any easier.”

Clarke reluctantly stepped back out of her arms, wiping her face. She’d almost forgotten how much she missed them, and now they were back it was hard to accept that this was really happening, that they wouldn’t disappear in front of her.

“And no more last name calling, I’m not a complete stranger.” The attempt at a joke fell flat. This reunion could still be as she'd always dreamed, with group hugs and laughter and so much happiness, but Clarke was unable to get her feet to move, or her mind to generate anything other than stilted short sentences. What do you say to the people you loved most when you hadn’t spoken for six years? “Speaking of strangers, this is Madi. But you should know that. She’s desperate to meet you.”

Raven awkwardly darted a glance sideways.

“You didn’t hear them,” Clarke breathed out in shock.

"Hear what?"

Clarke's mind was racing with the implications. "I tried to communicate with you by radio."

"Ah. Our communication system went bust, and we didn't prioritise it's replacement because..." She trailed off, shrugging her shoulders ruefully. Clarke could fill in the gaps; they'd though the surface of earth was a deserted wasteland.

Knowing that all her words hadn’t been received made her simultaneously sick and relieved. Those daily logs had kept her sane, grounded, for lack of a better word. That they had simply disappeared into space felt like losing something dear. Yet the words she had spoken, while they were true – the truest words she had spoken - they had been personal.  
Although that meant…Bellamy. He didn’t know. He didn’t know how she felt; never having had a chance to tell him in person how he quietened the guilt turbulent in her head and made her feel more than just the decisions she made, she had told him through the safe crackle of the radio waves.  
Clarke had saved him for last and now she was forced to turn her eyes to the tall figure still standing behind the others, curly hair turning caramel where the sun shone through from behind him. His eyes were downcast, so she took the moment to examine what six years in space had done to the person who had felt most like home. His shoulders were set rigidly, and his hands clenching by his sides. Although maintaining its curl, his hair had been largely cut back to a shorter, more practical style close his scalp, making his face harsher, more angular and heavy than the softness that existed before. When he lifted his eyes to her it was obvious the years hadn’t been so easy for Bellamy Blake.

“Clarke…” a low whisper of incredulity fled from his lips, as though unencouraged as he took a tentative step forward. Murphy looked uncomfortable, Raven just sad. Clarke knew what it meant that they hadn’t heard her signals. They had all thought she was dead for six years.

Clarke knew she was being weak when she rapidly announced she would lead them to her camp where she had food and running water to clean them up, but she did it anyway, leading the way with confident strides. Her words hadn’t been received and she hadn’t the strength to say them now. And not to someone she hardly knew.


End file.
